


Side Drabbles

by professional_benaddict



Series: Royal AU [3]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, IronStrange, King Anthony, King Stephen - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Prince Peter - Freeform, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Royal pets, Starker, Strangespider, royal au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-02 02:25:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16296497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professional_benaddict/pseuds/professional_benaddict
Summary: Side drabbles for the Royal AU.





	1. Side Drabble 1 - The Orphaned Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fandom_meet_fangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_meet_fangirl/gifts).



> Gift to Ellie for being so kind and beta reading this mess of an AU, thank you babe <3
> 
> Song I listened to while writing this: Anchor - Novo Amor (Ed Tullett Remix)

It was a truly grim day. Spring had been unusually late, and once it had actually arrived it brought little to no sunlight nor warmth. Instead, for weeks now it had poured down, sometimes even sideways due to the strong winds. The nearly constant wetness in the ground had turned it into mud, which had made it hard for the men to create the burial mound. The digging had brought out the musky and bitter smell of the earth into the air, but it could still not mask the thick presence of grief on the opening.

The opening was tended to every month by the castle gardeners. They cut down new trees and any other plants that tried to grow there, as tradition said that nothing should obscure the sight of the graves of great Kings and Queens. And it was quite the sight, with the mound stretching over 50 metres in length and 20 in width. 

Surrounding the artificial hill were nearly three dozen strangers, who Peter eyed curiously as he stood by his nanny's side. The Prince was dressed in a white suit, with the fur of a bear draped across his shoulders and fastened at his collar by golden chains. On his belt, he had the dagger that his father had gifted him for his 8th birthday. His otherwise unruly curls had been brushed back neatly. However, the damp air was making his curls bounce back and were falling into his wide brown eyes. 

The Prince clutched May's hand with both of his and eyed the crowd behind them. He recognised multiple to be lords and ladies of the Norwegian court, as he often saw them in the halls of his home, but two figures in particular caught his attention. One was a brunette, with a neatly trimmed goatee. He was dressed in a crimson suit with a sun-shaped embroidery on his chest. Across one of his shoulders he wore a long black cape, which covered one side of his body. Beside him, was a taller man. His hair was darker, nearly a raven black and he was clean-shaven. In contrast to the shorter man beside him, the raven-head wore a dark blue suit. He also had a black cape, but his was positioned evenly on his shoulders. 

Peter recognised them to be the Kings of Denmark and Sweden, who the Prince knew were very close with his parents. Both men had their heads bowed low, as most of the guests had, and occasionally they brought up a hand to dry the corners of their eyes. 

“May, where is Mommy and Daddy?” The little Prince demanded for the third time, tugging on the sleeve of his nanny’s dress. All of the funeral guests held back their sobs, some turning to wipe the tears falling down their cheeks. The innocence and sweetness of the newly orphaned Prince was tugging on everyone’s hearts as they looked at the grave in front of them. 

With a tight smile on her lips that did not reach her teary eyes, May knelt down and took the Prince's much smaller and softer hands in her own rougher ones. The little boy fixed his brown honey eyes on her, his brows knit together in a puzzled expression. 

“Pete, sweetheart… You will not see your Mom and Dad for a long time, I am afraid.” The nanny said gently, clearly struggling with explaining the situation to the little boy again. There was no doubt that the loss of his parents was a heavy burden for the young boy and that he would have trouble accepting the reality of it all for quite a while. 

“But I want to see them now!” The Prince cried, stomping his feet on the ground. 

Sensing the little boy's unease, May picked him up into her arms, despite him being slightly too heavy for it. With slow and heavy steps, the nanny walked closer to the small artificial hill that had been finished the day before. Stopping at where the mound began curving upwards, May set Peter back on the bare ground. 

“Say goodbye to your parents, Pete. Wish them well on their journey to Valhalla.” May said gently and kissed the top of the little boy's head. The Prince whipped around to face his nanny, his small face a mixture of disbelief, sadness and anger. 

“No! I want- I want Mommy!” The Prince exclaimed, his face turning red from all the emotions storming inside of his little body. From the crowd behind them, the Danish and Swedish Kings began approaching them, but Peter was too caught up in his distress to see them. The Prince suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned around, his small hand reaching for the handle of his dagger. 

“Oh! It is all right, little Prince.” The Swedish King said, looking slightly alarmed and pulled his hand back. “You remember me, do you not?”

By his side stood the other King, also eyeing Peter's hand on the dagger. Swallowing thickly, the Prince let go of the weapon and nodded. 

“Yes. You are Stephen.” The Prince replied before adding. “And you are Anthony.” 

The Dane tilted his head slightly in a greeting before whispering something to May, who was looking quite distressed. The nanny nodded to whatever Anthony said and went to join the lords and ladies of the Norwegian court. The three royals were left more or less alone, with the youngest in the middle as they stood and looked at the mound. 

“Where are they?” Peter asked after a moment, his voice resembling more of a squeak as a sob came out of his little mouth. 

The Swede placed his hand back on the Prince's shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze. 

“Your parents are in Valhalla now, with the Gods.” Stephen said gently, causing the little boy to gasp in a shaky breath as tears welled up in his eyes. “Everyday, they will feast and celebrate with the Gods as a reward for everything that they sacrificed for the Norwegian people. And everyday, they will look down at you, little Prince. You will see them again, but not for a very long time.” 

In a sudden movement, the crying Prince launched himself at Stephen, wrapping his trembling arms around his waist and buried his face into his side. The King did not hesitate with wrapping his own larger arms around him, bringing the boy into a proper embrace. As Peter sobbed his little heart out, while Anthony turned away from them to dry some of the tears that had fallen down his cheeks. Stephen bit his tongue, averting his gaze from the large mound as not to cry himself. He had to stay strong for the trembling boy in his arms. 

The three royals stayed like that for a long while, until Peter's sobs died down into sniffles and hiccups. With slow and gentle movements, Stephen unwrapped Peter's arms from around his waist so that he could kneel down by his side. Anthony did the same and cleared his throat before speaking. 

“Now, wish your parents well in Valhalla, Peter. You will regret it for the rest of your life if you do not.” The Dane urged gently, trying to meet the little boy's eyes. 

The Prince stayed silent and stared blankly ahead. For a second, the two older men could swear they saw some acceptance in the Prince's young and soft facial features. In the blink of an eye, it was gone and Peter turned on his heel and sprinted over to his nanny.


	2. Side Drabble 2 - Thyra's Tantrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This side drabble goes along with chapter 5 of "Royal Milk Tea"

Stupid human, Thyra thought to herself. The carrot was hers and the Prince had no business taking it from her. In addition, Peter had frightened her by yelling at her and the situation had only become worse as she realised she had no where to run and hide. She did not mean to hurt his human, but she had felt so scared and her instincts had taken over. The fox regretted attacking the Prince as soon as she saw the pain written on his otherwise sweet features. She still had some trouble with the ways that the humans communicated with their bodies. No, with the faces. Why just their faces? The way a canine wags their tail says more than a human ever can with their mouths. One thing Thyra did know, and that was when the Prince's lips curled upwards and the skin around his eyes crinkled up, he was happy. The fox had lost her appetite for her carrot, and instead she wanted nothing more than to see the Prince happy. 

“What on earth is going on here?” Fenrir's human spoke and rushed over to the younger human. As they spoke to on another, Fenrir made his way over to Thyra. 

“What have you done?” The larger canine asked so that only the smaller one could hear, while still keeping a distance from her. 

“He tried to steal my food!” Thyra replied angrily, rearranging her paws on top of the carrot in case the wolf-dog would also attempt to steal it. “He got what he deserved!”

Fenrir narrowed his eyes and closed the distance between himself and Thyra. Despite her grumbles, he began licking her forehead. 

“Kit, I see the regret in you. Speak truthfully.” 

The white fox made a snickering noise, but did not fight back when Fenrir cuddled up to her smaller body. They stayed quiet for a long time, occasionally with their eyes closed but also open now and then to watch the two humans. The older one had healed the younger one, and they moved to sit closer by the fire. The scent of blood was still present in the room to the canines. 

Eventually, the fox spoke quietly, only for the wolf-dog to hear. “I did not mean to bite him.” She admitted, averting her gaze from her master across the room. 

“I know you did not. You are still a kit, but such acts will not be tolerated for long. You are a royal companion now, not a wild fox. There are expectations and responsibilities you must meet. You do love him, do you not?” 

“I do!” Thyra answered hastily, turning to meet Fenrir's green eyes. “Have you not ever bit your human?” 

“Once, but not ever again. It was a misunderstanding, much like between you and Peter. Thyra, you must understand that humans have other ways of communicating and rarely will they ever use their teeth and claws like we do and even more rarely will they accept such attacks.”

“Why must I talk to him? Why will he not talk to me?” The fox stressed the difference with a low growl, wagging her tail in frustration. 

“I understand your frustration, kit. But the humans do not understand our way of speaking like we understand theirs. You said you love Peter, so help him understand you by talking to him.” Fenrir reasoned, but all he got in response from Thyra was the batting of her eyelids before she closed them and fell silent. 

They stayed cuddled up to one another for a while, enjoying each others´ warmth and company. Bit by bit, the fox started relaxing more and more, her tantrum melting away. She had avoided Peter's eyes since attacking him, but now she felt a tug inside of her, pulling her towards the comfort of her human's lap. The fox untangled herself from Fenrir, stretching to walk over to Peter, but suddenly becoming hesitant. She watched as Fenrir walked over to his master, getting what looked like a good scratch behind his ears. 

Swallowing her pride, Thyra walked over to Peter's outstretched hand. She did not yet feel like talking to him, but perhaps he would accept her licks as an apology. Judging by the way that his lips curled upwards and the skin around his eyes crinkled, Thyra succeeded at pleasing the Prince.


End file.
